Obsession
by Damaged
Summary: When Hermione goes out on a mission from Snape, will she come back alive, or will she have to face the Malfoys forever? EXPLICIT CONTEXT: SEX
1. Exposed

Chapter One: Exposed  
  
Hermione Granger stood, hooded and cloaked, outside a ring of trees. She wore a strapless, full length, black dress with a split up the side and a small split at the stop, showing off the curves of her breasts. Her cloak was black as well and had no sleeves, allowing the ugly tattoo that stung on her left forearm to show freely. Under her hood, black eyes set in a thin face glinted, and the black hair that flowed out onto her chest shown in the moonlight. She pulled a compact out of her cloak and opened it. The mirror glinted in the moonlight when she opened it. She looked at the reflection. The potion had worked. She was Bellatrix Lestrange.  
  
The real Bellatrix lay on the ground at her feet, stunned. Next to her, also stunned, lay her husband, Roldolphus. They had apparated together, and Hermione, who had been waiting, had quickly and quietly shot a stunning spell at the pair of them when their backs were turned. She had then plucked hair from Bella and drank the Polyjuice, transforming her. Not wanting to waste time undressing the wench, she had transformed her clothes, but she was not so sure about that decision now. What would her husband say, or worse, what if it wasn't appropriate to Voldemort? She gazed into the trees. There was to be a meeting tonight to discuss "plans." Hermione was here to find out what those plans were. She was ready. Snape had trained her as an Occlumens, and they had gone over the plan a number of times. Still, she was nervous. But, she was ready. She had to be ready.  
  
She closed the compact and put it away. She dragged Bellatrix to a clump of bushes and threw (yes, threw) her into them. Hermione hoped the fall would break her skull, but she didn't hear a crunch, crack, or even sickening thud, so she walked away, disappointed. 'Twould have served her to have something broken. If there weren't more pressing matters to attend to, Hermione would have taken personal pleasure in ridding the world of the evil witch. Ah well, another time.  
  
She walked over to Rodolphus. Kneeling down, she put her wand to his head and used a spell to make a cut appear. She didn't both to stanch the bleeding.  
  
"Enervate," she said.  
  
Rodolphus' eyes fluttered open. He looked around and saw his wife kneeling next to him. He noticed almost right away now much his head was throbbing. "What happened?" he inquired.  
  
"You fell," she answered.  
  
"Fell?"  
  
"Yes, husband, fell. You must have apparated on top of something wet, because you slipped, fell, and hit your head on a rock."  
  
"Oh," he said. Then he noticed her clothes. "You weren't wearing that when we left."  
  
"I was hot," she said nonchalantly, standing up. Then, smiling seductively at him, she said, "You disapprove?"  
  
"Of course not . . . on the contrary, I could get used to this." He stood up as well. When he was on his feet, he swayed a bit, leaning onto the nearest tree for support. He wiped the blood off his head, and his wife came up to him. She pointed her wand at him, mumbled something, and his cut was healed. Rodolphus froze. Since when did his wife know healing spells? Something wasn't right.  
  
Hermione moved to walk past the revolting man in front of her, but when she got within arms reach of him, he grabbed her and slammed her against the nearest tree. She gasped then recomposed herself and looked at the man in front of her. Adopting her Bella-voice, she snarled, "Husband, EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" But instead of an explanation, he leaned into her, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her close. Then, he crammed his lips against her, pushing them apart. He forced his tongue in her mouth, found her tongue, and bit down. Hermione, thinking hard, took his tongue and bit down harder. When she released it, she pulled on his lip before releasing him. She regarded him sternly.  
  
"Just checking something."  
  
"Well, now that you've had your bit of fun, we're expected somewhere." She pushed past him.  
  
Rodolphus caught her by the arm, pulling her to face him. He looked into his wife's eyes – or at least he thought they belonged to her. She kissed like she was his wife, but something about her didn't seem right. He shook the feeling off and pulled her to him, licking the length of her cheekbone until his tongue reached her ear, where he whispered, "We'll continue this little game at home." He gave his wife one final squeeze on her rump before smacking it to get her moving.  
  
Hermione walked behind her "husband." She seriously resented healing him now, even more than she had when she had done it. They reached the last tree and stepped into the clearing. Hermione felt her nervousness grow as she gazed upon the hooded figure in all black standing in the center of the clearing.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Hermione shut off all emotion as Voldemort turned to face them.  
  
"You're late," came the cold voice. Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine at the sound of it. "You should know by now that I do NOT like to be kept waiting."  
  
Rodolphus stepped forward. "I apologize, my lord. We had some trouble apparating. I –"  
  
Voldemort held up his hand. "I don't want your weak excuses. Make sure it NEVER happens again."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Rodolphus said. Then, he kneeled, and Hermione noticed, and followed suite. After kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes, her husband moved to stand in the gap waiting in the unfinished circle. Hermione did the same, but when she rose to join Rodolphus, Voldemort grabbed her arm. She froze, whether from terror or because she couldn't move or because she felt it was the right thing to do, she didn't know. She felt like she was a human, and he was a rattlesnake. She had to move slowly and carefully or he would feel threatened and strike. She slowly and carefully turned to look at him. She tried to show no emotion, but when she looked into his face, terror gripped her heart. He looked like Satan. Red eyes set in a pale – abnormally pale – face. The eyes were slits, as were the nostrils on his nose. He had a long, thin mouth and cat pupils. Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if those long, thin lips were hiding vampire teeth. Her knees were threatening to give way. She wanted to scream, cry, tear away from this creature. She could only stand there and hope he had not sensed her fear.  
  
"You look . . . exciting tonight."  
  
A shuffle ran through the circle. Hermione saw several people exchange looks, some smirks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rodolphus stiffen. Oh. So Voldemort had an interest in Bella, did he? Well, why not? After all, he was twisted, evil, and sick, as much if not as more as the heartless bitch. What was more, he was the master of both the Lestranges, so if he wanted to have some fun with another man's wife, there was no stopping him. (Well, if you valued your life, at least.) And no doubt Bella would have no complaints when asked to get cozy with the dark lord. Oooh. She would have fun baiting Rodolphus. She adopted her voice, but lowered it to a sexy purr. She fluttered her eyelashes seductively and said, "Thank you, my lord. I was actually nervous that you wouldn't approve." Well, thought Hermione, that part was true. And then, her terror turned to amusement as she thought how hilariously ironic it was for her to be telling the truth to the master of lies, tricks, and deceit.  
  
Voldemort smiled and released her saying, "Calm your nerves. I approve."  
  
Hermione smiled and walked over to stand beside Rodolphus. When she got there, he snarled, "So, that's the reason for your change of clothes."  
  
Hermione turned and smiled at her "husband" a long, patronizing smile that really got him pissed. She was rubbing it all in his face and he knew it. Voldemort cleared his throat. There was no need. He had everyone's attention, and he knew it.  
  
"As I predicted, the dementors have joined us. It is for that reason that you are all here tonight. Some of you have already managed to fit your way back into society, which is good because we are in need of spies in the ministry and other places. Lucius, MacNair, Crabbe, and Goyle have all gotten away with the excuse that the Imperious Curse was controlling them. The idiots at the ministry were soft enough to believe them."  
  
Hermione looked over at Lucius, Crabbe, and Goyle. They were all smirking. Assholes. She could have hexed them into oblivion.  
  
"Those who aren't working in the ministry will be concentrating on bringing others to our side. The vampires, the goblins, and the giants – all of them. Now, to business. The prophecy is gone."  
  
A rustle ran through the circle. Someone was going to pay. Voldemort turned to her.  
  
"Bella, explain."  
  
Hermione was ready. She had been forewarned that he would ask her to relive the events of the night when the last prophecy was smashed. She told the whole story and everyone's part in it. But, when she was done, Voldemort did not seem impressed. In fact, he was regarding her with suspicion. Uh- oh. What? What had she done, said wrong? Voldemort took a step towards her. But, when he spoke, it was not to her.  
  
"Rodolphus."  
  
"My lord?"  
  
"Tell me, Rodolphus, has your wife had any contact with any of the other death eaters for the last two years?"  
  
"No, my lord."  
  
Oh shit, Hermione thought. Everything was going wrong. She said, "My lord, I don't understand."  
  
He took another step towards her. He cocked his head and smiled. "No, Bella? You don't, do you? Your story has changed drastically since the night we escaped. Do you remember that night, Bella?" He took another step towards her. Why did he keep putting so much emphasis on her name? "I escaped with you. I asked you for your story. I tortured you until I got it out of you. You begged for my mercy, and I gave it to you, and more besides." He licked his lips, as if remembering how she had tasted. Hermione was sickened.  
  
He took another step. And another. He was three steps away from her. Hermione was terrified. It was over. She had failed. Her story didn't match up. She was scared. She had to run. But where? All the death eaters were watching her. She was sandwiched by Rodolphus and Malfoy, with a tree behind her and Voldemort in front, advancing. Before she could do anything, Voldemort said, "Grab her!" and she felt two strong hands on her upper arms. Voldemort appeared in front of her. He pushed her hood off and grabbed her neck, forcing her head back.  
  
"Scream for me, Bella."  
  
"M-my lord?" she squeaked.  
  
"Scream for me like you did that night. Scream out for me." His face was so close to her she could feel his hot breath on her neck. He pressed a finger onto the pressure point on her neck, and she moaned with pain. Suddenly, he stepped away. She looked up just in time to see him point his wand at her and say, "Crucio!" Pain racked her body. Searing, unimaginable pain racked her frame. She could feel the curse all over; it was tearing her muscles, burning her skin, pulling, biting, stabbing, ripping every part of her being. She screamed, louder and louder, the earsplitting pierce of her pain raking the circle, shattering the quiet of the night.  
  
Voldemort knew now. This witch writhing before him was not Bellatrix Lestrange. But, who was it? 


	2. Lucius' Plan

Chapter Two: Lucius' Plan  
  
He released her from the curse. Hermione opened her eyes and realized she was on the ground. She felt herself being pulled up roughly.  
  
"Bind her to the tree."  
  
She struggled fiercely and got the Crucio curse again. They held her painfully as she shrieked and twisted around, crying. When the curse was lifted, she could barely breathe, let alone fight the bastards who bound her to the tree that she had been standing in front of. They tied her hands and feet to the tree and bound her chest, torso, and calves to the trunk.  
  
Voldemort walked up to her. His face was contorted in a horrible smirk. She glared at him and lifted her chin defiantly but said nothing. He grabbed her face and squished it so that she was puckering her lips at him. He was holding her face so hard that he was pushing her teeth in, but she didn't flinch.  
  
"Your time's almost up, wench, we'll soon see who you are."  
  
He was quite right, though. And when her one hour was up, she began to feel the change. She watched as her feet and hands grew smaller, her hair became longer, curlier, and brown. Her breasts grew and her black dress became tighter. Her face turned back into its heart shape, her nose shrank to its normal size. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her eyes were their normal color, chocolate brown. A gasp ran through the circle.  
  
Voldemort looked confused. He raised an eyebrow. "Have we met?"  
  
She sneered at him. "'Tis doubtful, my lord, for I can't see myself being caught with anything as pitiful as you," Hermione spat.  
  
The result of this would have been comical, had the situation not been so serious. Every Death Eater's jaw dropped. The first to recover was Dolohov, who screamed, "You filthy mudblood whore! How dare you insult our lord! You're not fit to lick your blood from his boots!"  
  
Dolohov snapped everyone out of their reverie, and they started shouting very uncolorful words at Hermione. But, Voldemort held up a hand and they were silenced. He drew a long knife out of his robes and cut her bonds. He grabbed her by the hair and threw her on the ground. Pouncing on her, he pinned her to the ground and straddled her. There were whoops and hollers from the circle. "Now, my little whore, who sent you? Answer me, and I may spare you a painful romp and let you live."  
  
She scoffed. "Do you really think I would be here if I cared about my life?"  
  
He shrugged and smiled wickedly down at her. "So be it, then. I could do with a screw." And with that, his hands moved to the slit in her skirt. She watched, terrified, as the long, pale fingertips grazed her thigh, grasped the material of her skirt, found the top of the split in the skirt, and tore. She panicked as more and more of her was exposed to all of these strangers. "Not so brave now, are you?" he asked.  
  
The slit in the dress now reached above her hip, and it was open, revealing her white panties. But, her hands were free, and she said, "How very hypocritical – I have no wand whereas you are fully armed. My, my, aren't you brave." And she brought one of her hands up, made a fist, and knocked the dark lord across the face. It took him by surprise and shut everyone up. Hermione was even surprised at herself. But, she took advantage of his surprise. She hit him again and pushed him off her. She got up and ran for the break in the circle. But, before she could get there, she heard someone call, "IMPEDIMENTA!" and she was thrown on her back. Another moment she heard, "CRUCIO!" and her body was racked with pain again. When she opened her eyes, she was Voldemort standing above her, glowering. He kicked her in the stomach and then in the head. Then, he cast the Crutatious Curse at her already aching body and she screamed, choking on her sobs. Voldemort reached down and picked her up by her neck and slammed her against a tree.  
  
"WHO SENT YOU?" he yelled in her face.  
  
Just then, a cold drawl came from the other end of the clearing. "I believe I know."  
  
Hermione knew who it was before she even looked. Lucius Malfoy walked up to the pair of them, looking very smug.  
  
"Indeed, Lucius? Why haven't you spoken up before now?" Voldemort inquired icily.  
  
"Because, my lord, I did not wish to deprive you of a good time."  
  
Voldemort smiled and looked back at Hermione, his eyes roaming her body. Then, he looked back at Lucius. "Go on."  
  
"My lord, I know this witch to be one of Harry Potter's best friends. She is a fellow Gryffindor, and she has spent the last two summers with him, and it was rumored that Potter and Krum shared her in the fourth year."  
  
"Only narrow-minded fools believe whatever that Skeeter cow prints," Hermione piped up. Malfoy's face flushed. Hermione smirked.  
  
"One day soon, you filth, you will learn to hold your tongue." He turned to Voldemort. "Another fact about our guest here. She is a mudblood."  
  
Hermione saw Voldemort's eyes light up and immediately became apprehensive. But, when he looked into her face, she gave him a defiant look.  
  
"Well," he sneered. "I'll give you points for bravery. A mudblood is our favorite source of entertainment around here – besides muggles, of course."  
  
"Like I said earlier, if I feared for my life, I wouldn't be here."  
  
"So, you don't fear death?"  
  
She sneered at him, laughed in his face. "No, unlike you, I do not fear death."  
  
His hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, moved to her neck again. She gasped as his hand tightened around her neck. He brought his face up close to hers. "I fear nothing," he said. His voice was deadly. If Hermione thought she was scared of them before, she was petrified now. His eyes were boring into hers now, and she felt naked under his stare. His voice was barely a whisper, but Hermione heard every word. He looked like something she had only seen in her nightmares. She whimpered. He heard and smiled.  
  
His hand grabbed her thigh. His eyes flashed. He turned to the circle and said, "What do you say to a bit of fun, boys?" She heard their yells of agreement. Voldemort's hands moved to the split in the top of her dress.  
  
Before he did anything, though, Lucius drawled, "My lord, I believe I know how to solve this problem. In fact, it could be used to our advantage."  
  
"Hurry, Lucius," he hissed. Then, he looked at Hermione and chuckled. "I'm hungry." The circle emitted loud, raucous laughter. They too wanted a show.  
  
"We could use the wench to lure Potter to us," Lucius said.  
  
All froze. The night was quiet. Hermione stopped struggling, Voldemort stopped groping her, and all the Death Eaters were quiet. Lucius saw with satisfaction Hermione's eyes widen in fear. Then, to make it better, and evil smile crept onto Voldemort's face. He said to Lucius, "You are brilliant, my slippery friend. It shall be as you say. Doesn't that sound great, my little slut?" He laughed in her face.  
  
"Get the fuck away from me," she spat.  
  
"Mmm . . . fuck . . . that sounds good." With that, he dragged her down to the dirt. "Now where were we? Ah, yes . . ." His hands reached for the third time that night to the slit in the top of her dress. He grasped either side of the slit with both hands and tore. Loud hoots sounded from the crowd as her curves were exposed. She shivered as the night air blew past her body. She struggled against him, but her efforts were futile. She began to sob. She was a virgin. She would not, could not lose her virginity to this creature. But she would. She had no control over it. He leaned over to her, sneering.  
  
She shrieked, clawing at him, but her merely pressed himself on top of her, pinning her arms down. She bent her knee to try and kick him, but he pushed her legs apart and began exploring the space between her upper thighs. She trembled at his touch. But, he pushed her away, sneering, "You really think I would soil myself? You're a mudblood whore – I'll leave the fucking to others. Give her to your son, Lucius, I'm sure he'll have a lovely time with this new toy."  
  
He dragged her up and shoved her into Lucius, who held her at arms reach, as if afraid of catching a disease. The Death Eaters around them looked disappointed. They had lost out on a show, and Lucius got to take the show dog. But, of course, no one said anything. Lucius grinned at her – Actually, he sadistically sneered at her – and laughed.  
  
"Yes, he will. He's been wanting to catch her alone and give her a good thrashing for quite some time. Thank you, my lord."  
  
Hermione felt a thump on her head and all went black. 


End file.
